


Better

by LilyisPet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A/U, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Out of Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 06:02:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13675743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyisPet/pseuds/LilyisPet
Summary: A day in the life of established Drarry. Draco has been sneaking around with George, Harry has planned a romantic dinner. Tonight is the night that Draco confesses what he’s been up to.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snarrydrarrytomarrylover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarrydrarrytomarrylover/gifts).



> This is painfully un-beta’d. It was written for the lovely snarrydrarrytomarrylover as part of our Valentine’s Exchange. I had to scrap my original idea due to time constraints, but I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism welcome!

Draco smoothed his hands down the front of his jumper before taking a fortifying breath. He schooled his features into a disinterested mask and made his way onto the cobbled street before him. Diagon Alley was alive with the daily goings on of its teeming crowds.

Five years after the war he was still on the receiving end of many heated glares. He didn’t let them bother him—he expected them. To some, it would never matter that Draco Malfoy had been cleared of all charges or that the Chosen One himself had testified on his behalf. Draco had accepted his role and played it well, knowing all along what the price of success would be.

Draco wandered slowly toward his destination, allowing himself to get lost in thought. After Fourth Year he had been approached by his father and Severus. They explained the truth of the Dark Lord’s return and what he would expect from Draco. Draco was raised to be a proper pure blood heir and carried with him all of the prejudices and traditions that went with the title.

Draco was excited at first. His father had always professed his loyalty to the Dark Lord and Draco wanted nothing more than to please his father and swear fealty to his new master. When he told them this Lucius had not looked proud. Draco watched in shock as his father’s expression twisted into one of contempt and sadness. Lucius Malfoy bowed his head for a long time before nodding once to Severus and leaving the room.

Severus told him about how his father had turned into a spy for the Light after Draco was born. The Order was never informed as Voldemort disappeared a few months later and it was deemed an unnecessary risk to expose Lucius as a spy. He was Dumbledore’s contingency plan for when the Dark Lord returned. Lucius was meant to be the embodiment of the perfect Death Eater and was ordered to do nothing that would cause anyone to become suspicious of him.

Draco listened to Severus explain what life serving the Dark Lord would really be like. He was directed to the Pensive in the room and felt a growing sense of horror as he viewed memory after memory of Death Eater meetings and raids. He was told that most of what he had been raised to believe was wrong. His father returned to the room, visibly shaken, and asked for forgiveness.

With the Dark Lord’s return Draco was given a choice—he could be sent away to America until the war was over or he could stay and fight. To fight would be to spy; to cloak himself in darkness and fool everyone around him into thinking that nothing had changed. He was still to be the perfect Death Eater son. No one could know the truth. No one could learn that he was fighting for the Light, that he was _helping_ Harry Potter. Not even Potter could know the truth.

Choosing to fight, Draco struggled to maintain his sense of self. On one hand there was his old self, the self that was full of hate and cruelty that he presented to the wizarding world. On the other hand there was his new self, the one that had opened his eyes to the dangers of old prejudices and was actively working to guarantee a better future for himself and his family.

Though not completely alone in his struggle, Draco eventually began to feel lost. The only people who knew who he really was were his parents, Severus, and Dumbledore. Draco had struggled through Fifth Year at Hogwarts but managed to maintain enough perspective to still believe that he was doing the right thing. It wasn’t until Sixth Year that things nearly fell apart.

The Dark Lord’s task was one he was unwilling to complete, and though he knew that failure would mean his death the alternative was so abhorrent that he wouldn’t consider it. After a particularly nasty argument with Severus and Dumbledore he had fled to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. Potter’s arrival when he was at his lowest point proved to be too much for Draco. He just wanted to be done. He loathed the things he had done, the things he was supposed to do. Casting a poorly executed _Crucio_ had been his way of forcing a duel. Draco didn’t expect the vicious cutting curse that was cast at him, but as his world faded to grey and then black he was overwhelmed by a sense of relief.

Of course, it wasn’t over. Far from it, in fact. From that point forward though things did get a bit more bearable for Draco. The incident had forced Dumbledore to tell Potter about Draco’s secret. There was still a lot of tension between them, but they slowly began to trust each other.

Startling at the sound of a loud _crack_ Draco looked up, surprised to find himself at his destination. The children outside the shop lit one more firework and laughed with glee as yet another passerby startled. Rolling his eyes at their antics, Draco pushed open the door to _Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes_ and stepped inside.

He shook his head to clear it of his depressing thoughts. _Things got better eventually_ , he reminded himself ruefully. The full truth could never come out, but he and Potter had put on a show of making amends with each other after the Dark Lord’s defeat. Harry got Draco to reluctantly allow him to tell the Weasley family about his true role in the war efforts and after a few months of tense conversations Draco suddenly found himself being welcomed as a friend.

Looking around the shop, Draco grimaced at all the flamboyant decorations. Everywhere he looked there were red and pink hearts, charmed Cupid dolls shooting sparkly arrows, and pink love potions.

“It looks like Valentine’s day was sick in here,” Draco drawled sardonically, lazily leaning against the door frame to the open store room.

George looked up from where he appeared to be sorting Pygmy puffs by color and grinned.

“Don’t complain about the decor, Marilyn.”

Draco snorted. Raising an eyebrow he addressed George with a long-suffering sigh. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope!” Came the reply as the red-head disappeared behind a display of fluttering white envelopes.

“Sod off. Halloween was months ago, I refuse to be plagued by that ridiculous nickname any longer.” He hesitated and then continued thoughtfully, “I _did_ look pretty fantastic in that dress though, didn’t I?” Draco said with a lazy grin.

Laughing, George reappeared and slung his arm across Draco’s shoulders. Leaning down he whispered into Draco’s ear, “That you did mate. You were a dead ringer for Marilyn Monroe for sure, but I’ve always been more interested in how Harry talked you into wearing the dress in the first place.”

With a scowl he shoved George away. “Potter cheated. We had a bet and the Golden Boy _cheated_.”

“Oh now you have to tell me, Marilyn.”

“I will not give you the sordid details, you ginger freak,” Draco replied with a smirk. “You appear to spend far too much time fantasizing about me already. Not that I blame you, really. I am a rather tempting eye-candy after all.”

George’s laughter boomed through the shop as he licked Draco’s cheek. Draco shoved him hard enough that he fell against a display of singing Valentine’s Day cards. With a flick of his wand they were silenced, but not quick enough to save them from the glare that Angelina, George’s wife, shot them from the front counter. “Oi! I thought you two had secret, ‘Don’t tell Harry’ things to do? Get out of here before you scare the customers with your warped conversations.”

With a wicked grin George blew her a kiss that she pretended to catch before throwing back at him. “Oh Angie, don’t pretend you’re not just as interested in seeing Draco in a dress again as I am.”

Draco grabbed George’s arm and pulled him to the back of the shop and up the stairs towards. Waiving to Angelina he turned and slapped the back of George’s head. “Deviant,” he muttered fondly. At George’s grin he rolled his eyes. “Come on, you kinky bastard, we have things to do.”

Chuckling over his shoulder at Draco, George led the way into his flat. After closing the door he shoved Draco towards the sitting room. He poured them both a glass of Fire Whisky before coming to stand in front of Draco. “You know,” he said slowly, “People are starting to get suspicious of us spending so much time together. It’s only been a few weeks but I’ve already been cornered by both Ginny and Hermione demanding answers. You’re going to have to tell him soon.”

Draco sighed and nodded, taking a swallow of his drink and allowing it to burn a path down his throat. “I know,” he said quietly. “Merlin, the whole point of all this sneaking around was so that I could tell him tonight but I feel so damned guilty every time he asks what we’re up to.”

George chuckled. “You’ve grown soft, Marilyn. It isn’t anything to feel guilty about. Now strip!” He commanded with a leer.

Rolling his eyes to hide his blush Draco did as he was commanded, untucking his jumper and slowly tugging it over his head before tossing it to the sofa behind him. Taking a fortifying breath he met George’s eyes, “Where do you want me?”


	2. Chapter 2

Flooing home later than usual that evening, Draco smiled to himself as he caught of whiff of something delicious—dinner he assumed. He could hear music playing and chuckled at the off-tune humming accompanying the muggle song. Stepping into the hallway he removed his shoes before quietly making his way to the kitchen. He paused to lean against the island countertop, admiring the view as his lover bent to check on whatever was in the oven. He let out a wolf-whistle and laughed as the man in front of him startled, straightening quickly and turning to face him.

“Draco you git!” Harry yelped, scowling at Draco and tossing a kitchen towel at him.

Draco flicked his wand and the kitchen towel vanished. Raising an eyebrow he stepped forward, crowding Harry’s space and maintaining eye contact. “Scared, Potter?” He smirked, leaning forward to kiss Harry’s cheek. He watched Harry struggle not to laugh at the ridiculous taunt from their childhood.

Pouting, Harry pushed him away. “Sod off Malfoy,” he drawled. “Go away. Do... something.” He sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose, “You smell like floo powder and,” sniffing again he raised an eyebrow, “Gun powder? Fireworks? What were you doing at 3W? What took you so long? I expected you home ages ago.” Harry turned back to the stove and began stirring the sauce he had simmering.

Draco flushed and reached past Harry, stealing the bottle of Dragon Ale he had left on the counter and taking a long swallow. He watched Harry for a moment more before stepping away and heading from the room, pausing to call over his shoulder, “I had to drop off some paperwork for Angelina. She’s still thinking about opening another shop in Hogsmeade. Her Ginger was setting off some of his newest experiments to annoy me.”

Making his way through the house to the bedroom Draco felt a slight twinge of guilt. He wasn’t comfortable lying to Harry about how he had spent his time with George, but he wasn’t yet ready to tell him the truth. George’s words earlier echoed in his head and he sighed. _Tonight_ , he silently reminded himself. Harry would know everything later tonight.

Draco turned on the shower and allowed steam to fill the bathroom, slowly stripping out of his clothes. Eyes catching his reflection in the mirror, Draco’s gaze fell to his left forearm, lingering for a moment on the dark shape resting there. With a small smile he turned and stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to wash away the aching stiffness in his shoulder from the afternoon spent with George.

After washing and dressing slowly, Draco headed back downstairs. He was surprised to see the lighting dimmed in the parlor. Harry called his name and he stepped into the room, eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected sight. It seemed that Harry had been busy while Draco showered. The existing furniture had been transfigured into a table and chairs. The table was decorated with a beautiful dark red tablecloth and there were candles floating in the air throughout the room. The table was set with their food already plated and under warming charms. As he entered the room Harry handed him a glass of wine before taking him by the elbow and leading him over to his chair.

“I know you don’t like all this sappy stuff, and generally loathe Valentine’s Day,” Harry said hesitantly, “but I wanted to do something nice for you. You’ve been stressed lately and I know you’re keeping something from me.” Draco’s pulse quickened as his eyes shot up to meet Harry’s. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw no suspicion. Harry gave him a small smile and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to grill you. God knows that has _never_ worked before. I just want you to know, whatever is going on, you can tell me.”

As Harry stepped around the table to take his own seat Draco focused on arranging his napkin in his lap. After taking a sip of his wine he risked a glance at Harry again and offered a small smile. “Everything is fine, Harry, and this looks delicious.”

Harry eyed him dubiously but shrugged with a sigh. Draco knew he still wanted answers but he was relieved when Harry didn’t push. He wasn’t ready to have this conversation yet. Later. Soon, in fact, but not yet.

Taking another sip of his wine he lifted his fork and speared a piece of shrimp before bringing it to his mouth and letting out a soft moan of appreciation. Harry had gone all out, making Draco’s favorite meal: home made shrimp scampi alfredo with garlic bread and tiramisu for dessert. He looked up and raised an eyebrow at the gobsmacked expression on Harry’s face.

Harry quickly lowered his head, but not before Draco saw the faint blush staining his cheeks. He grinned and slid his leg forward so that his knee was resting against Harry’s. When Harry looked up Draco smiled. “This is nice,” his gesture indicating the room and table. “Thank you.”

Beaming, Harry bumped his knee against Draco’s. “It’s not too much? I was afraid it would... I don’t know, ruin the mood,” he said with a slightly self-deprecating laugh.

“Of course it’s too much,” Draco said, rolling his eyes but smiling at Harry fondly. “But you being sappy is something I find endearing so I’ll allow it.” Harry’s blinding smile made Draco laugh and the two settled down and began to enjoy their meal. They talked of nothing important, both simply enjoying each other’s company and allowing the wine they shared to relax them.

After they had finished eating Draco vanished the dishes as Harry transfigured the table and chairs back into their normal furniture. Settling into an oversized chair near the fire Draco pulled Harry onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist as the brunette leaned back against him, resting his head on Draco’s shoulder with a contented sigh. They sat in silence for a few minutes, both lost in thought as they gazed into the fire.

“Draco...” Harry began to speak but then hesitated.

Draco leaned forward and kissed Harry’s neck, “Hmm?” He breathed, nibbling at Harry’s earlobe before sliding his tongue along the same path.

Harry let out a weak moan and tilted his head to the side to give Draco better access. “You’re distracting me,” he complained half-heartedly.

“Did you want me to stop?” Draco followed up his question with more kisses down Harry’s neck, sucking gently at the sensitive spot where his neck and shoulder joined.

“N—no?” Harry asked, shivering and pressing back against Draco’s chest. When he stopped Harry let out a soft groan and turned to meet Draco’s eyes.

Draco laughed and leaned forward to kiss him. “You were saying something?” At Harry’s blush Draco hugged him tighter and let out a sigh. “You were going to ask me about George, weren’t you?”

Harry looked away and nodded. “It’s not...” he began and then stopped. When Draco said nothing, he shrugged. “I know it’s not what it seems like. I’m just, well, curious I suppose.”

Amusement sprinkled his tone as Draco responded, “And well all know how much the Chosen One just _loves_ a good mystery.”

Harry swatted his arm where it rested around his waist and struggled to move. “Oh forget it,” he said with a pout. Harry made as if to stand and was halfway up before Draco pulled him back down. He kissed along Harry’s neck and jaw until he felt Harry relax against him.

“What does it seem like?” Draco asked.

Harry shrugged, blushing. “Ron and ‘Mione think you’re shagging him. Gin thinks they’re both mental but agrees that you’re up to _something_.”

“Remind me to take Granger and the Weasel off our Christmas card list,” Draco drawled slowly. Harry gave him a crooked smile and leaned in to press a soft kiss against his lips.

“I told you I don’t think it’s that, but you have to admit that you have been sneaking off with George more often than not lately.” Harry kissed Draco again and nipped his lower lip. “What’s going on?”

Draco moved to face Harry, pressing a hand gently against the other man’s chest until he was leaning back against the arm of the chair with his legs in Draco’s lap.

“I know that I haven’t always been the best with... overt... displays of affection—“

“You’re plenty affectionate when it matters,” Harry interrupted him, gesturing to their current position and Draco’s hands resting on Harry’s thighs.

With an amused snort Draco inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Stop interrupting, Potter,” he said, doing his best to sneer in disgust but cracking a smile when Harry stuck his tongue out at him.

“As I was saying,” he paused to raise an eyebrow at Harry who pantomimed zipping his lips shut, “I am not the best at overt _public_ displays of affection. Angelina’s Ginger knows this and has been helping me come up with something suitable.”

“Draco, I don’t _need_ anything. If others think you’re too distant then that’s their problem not ours,” Harry said fiercely. His outburst earned him a slow kiss from Draco, who pulled away and smiled at Harry’s dazed expression.

“I know that, love, but...I _want_ to do something. I wanted to, I don’t know, show you how much you mean to me I guess.” He leaned forward and tugged his jumper up over his head, tossing it carelessly across the room and onto the sofa. At Harry’s questioning gaze he held out his left forearm.

Harry let out a soft gasp and gently grasped Draco’s wrist, pulling his arm closer for further examination. His fingers traced the black ink reverently. Stretching from wrist to elbow was a sleeping dragon. Curled up next to it Harry could see a Stag, it’s head resting on the dragon’s tail. The ink shimmered in the dim lighting of the the room and both animals seemed to breathe.

Swallowing against a suddenly dry throat Draco started speaking again. This time his voice was barely above a whisper. “When the Dark Lord was defeated and my Mark disappeared, I told you that I would never allow someone else to mark me like that. I was claimed as his and even thought I knew that I wasn’t really one of them I still felt violated. I still do sometimes. But this...” he gestured to his forearm, “This is different. Somehow over the past few years you’ve wormed your way into my life and I wouldn’t change a thing about it. You’ve left your mark on me but no one can see it. I wanted to be able to show them that I’m yours every bit as much as you’re mine.”

Harry suddenly moved to straddle Draco’s lap, hands fisting in his hair as they kissed deeply. The kiss lasted long moments and ended only when Harry pulled away to catch his breath. Panting he rested his forehead against Draco’s. “ _Brilliant_ ,” he muttered, causing Draco to grin.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said nipping Harry’s lower lip gently. “I designed it and George has been helping me with some charms. We’ve had to layer the charms on over the course of several weeks, hence all the sneaking around. During the day the Stag becomes a snitch and the Dragon chases it around. They will move across my shoulders and down to my other arm, but at night, when they sleep, they’ll always settle in the same place.”

Harry smiled, pulling Draco down for another kiss. “Just like us, huh? No matter where we are, we’ll always be home to each other.” He smirked when Draco blushed and nodded.

Draco’s grip on Harry’s waist tightened and he pulled Harry closer, grinding against him until Harry let out a gasp and bit his lip to keep from groaning. “You got your overt display of affection for this silly holiday, one you can share with your adoring fanbase if you so choose,” Draco teased. He lowered his voice and leaned in to whisper into Harry’s ear, “but as Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet, I’d really like to take this upstairs and continue showering you with my own _private_ displays of affection.”

Harry whimpered and rocked his hips against Draco’s. He tightened his hold on Draco and kissed him again before _Apparating_ them both to the bedroom. Draco’s last coherent thought of the night was _yes, things have indeed gotten better_.


End file.
